


Tepid Skin

by Lovelettes



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelettes/pseuds/Lovelettes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But even so, you persisted. Pursued her, basically. It was a game at the beginning: you were the hero, Dirk was the morally ambiguous antagonist, and Roxy was the prize. Dirk ceased being the antagonist once he figured out your game, and no longer did you have a reason to continue with your double entendres and wanton suggestions. You thought that you would have lost interest by now.</p><p>You haven't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tepid Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Because I saw [this](http://faiell.tumblr.com/post/37860167874/so-i-just-really-like-ar-with-a-bodysuit) and I'm kind of in love?
> 
> For my moirail.

The flirtatious undertones of your conversations with Roxy started as a way to get under Dirk's skin, but it soon became increasingly clear that it didn't particularly bother him. Roxy was a friend—still is—and a confident, not a love interest.

But even so, you persisted. Pursued her, basically. It was a game at the beginning: you were the hero, Dirk was the morally ambiguous antagonist, and Roxy was the prize. Dirk ceased being the antagonist once he figured out your game, and no longer did you have a reason to continue with your double entendres and wanton suggestions. You thought that you would have lost interest by now.

You haven't.

Roxy is special to you. She became special to you. She became yours, in a sense, and you take pride in the fact that you're special to her as well. 

Honestly, you would have stopped talking to her ages ago had she not been the only one to treat you like an actual person. Dirk created you and treats you somewhat normally, but the creator-creation bond you share lines every conversation. Jane tries but always slips eventually, and you end up in a sour mood. Jake hates you. He hates you because you're not Dirk and because you've taken to screwing with him every chance you get.

And here was Roxy: beautiful, sweet, perfect, and pinned beneath you.

You press a kiss to her lips, experimentally moving them against hers. It doesn't really do anything for you, but Roxy likes it well enough. She smiles into it, laughing from excitement, biting from passion. She's the forward one, tongue swiping at your lips with certainty. You allow her inside, and the sensation of her tongue against your sparks _something_. What that _something_ is exactly you're unsure.

It's still strange to think that you have a body now, even if it's all contrived, all silicon and circuits. It's strange to think that you have lips and teeth and tongue. _Tongue_. It was something that Roxy had pushed Dirk into adding (the job was made easy with the Alchemiter handy) along with your teeth and everything human about you. She even suggested a particular bit of anatomy, but Dirk drew the line right there. Roxy promised to add that attachment herself, and through much embarrassment and awkward laughs on both of your parts, she did.

You break the kiss, and she pouts at the loss of contact. You just smirk at her and slide down, settling yourself between her legs.

You slide her dress up her taut stomach, deft fingers hooking into the lace waistline of her panties. The blush coloring her cheeks isn't from alcohol, and the thought that _you_ are doing this to someone—to her, especially—makes you grin at her. It's an expression you rarely, if ever, see on Dirk's face.

You tug the material down her thighs, and she lifts her legs so that you can slip them off entirely. You lean over her, covering her stomach in open-mouth kisses.

Roxy giggles, hand reaching down to tangle in your lovingly crafted hair. Soft and synthetic. “You're tickling me!”

You look up and grin again. “It seems that you are ticklish. I wonder how I should use this new data?”

Roxy cranes to look down at you. Her face is a lovely shade of pink, but her expression is unamused. “If you tickle me, I swear to all things wizardy—”

You chuckle and shift to your knees, grasping Roxy's legs and propping them on your shoulders. “I won't. Chill the fuck out. I've got other plans...”

She shrieks when you grab her ass, pulling her up until she's resting solely on her upper back. Your lips descend, tongue beginning its torture. Her legs spasm, thighs locking around your neck.

You discover that Roxy is quite the screamer.

You love it. You love that you can do this to her, you love that you can give her what others can't. You have her under your control; you can bend her however you please.

Her moans raise an octave when you suck on her heated flesh, tongue swirling around her clit, lips closing around the bundle of nerves. Her hips are moving in a circular motion in an attempt to gain more friction; her legs pull you closer.

You take this as incentive to slide your tongue inside her. You press the tip against her tight entrance, testing how resistant, how tight she is. You toss a glance upwards, and Roxy is quivering, pink eyes staring you down, daring you to do it just do it—

You do.

“A-ah! Hm...ngh...”

She grinds against your face, and you retaliate by shoving your tongue in deeper, moving it in and out. The noises the two of you are making are obscene, sexually charged and heated. You move your tongue faster and faster until Roxy's nearly sobbing.

You pull away abruptly. She makes an indignant noise combined with a whine at the sudden lack of pressure and pleasure. You lower her back down to the bed and settle yourself over her.

“Why...why'd you stop?” Her lips form a pout, and you find yourself kissing her again.

“Because I felt like it,” you say. “Not too bad considering I'm not real, am I right?” Your smile is wry.

Roxy frowns at you. There's a note of exasperation in her eyes. “Yes you are. You're real.”

You sigh. She doesn't understand, and she never will. No one will. No one knows the pain of lacking an identity, the hurt that comes from knowing that you're a pale imitation of someone better.

You're surprised by your own honesty. Dirk is your superior, even if you liked to believe the reverse. But you're also not him. Not anymore. You became your own person a long time ago.

And still yet...

“I'm not like you, Roxy. And I never will be.” The truth hurts, but it often does. “I'm not human like you.”

“Shut up!” She nearly yells the words, and it's sudden and startling. “I'm just a...what do you call us? Meat bags? Meat sacks?” She shakes her head and hooks her arms around your neck. “I dunno. Whatever I am...it doesn't matter. So what if your covering is different than mine? You're as human as any of us, AR—I mean, uh, hm—”

You swoop down and kiss her hard. Dirk gave you life and a body filled with wires and numbers and knowledge. Roxy gave you your softness, the humanness of your features, all of the small details like your lips and teeth and skin and hair.

She gave you some semblance of a heart.

“Call me Hal,” you breathe, even though you don't breathe. “Call me, hell, whatever you want, Roxy.”

The need for differentiation from Dirk strikes you more unyielding than before. When you told Jake to call you 'Lil Hal, you were joking, but now you want something of your own, a name of your own. Hal is fine. Hal will do.

Hal is not Dirk.

You rock your hips against her, setting a perfectly tuned rhythm. Dirk has yet to figure out some sensory programs like scent or taste or physical pleasure, and Roxy keeps promising and forgetting to look into it. You don't blame her: she's been busy lately. You can bring yourself to blame Dirk, who's so caught up in dating Jake English that he's tossed you by the wayside, but not Roxy.

No matter. Even if you can't derive physical pleasure from this, Roxy can. And her getting off on you gets you off in a way.

“Hal...” she mumbles airily. “Hal, you can...you can...can you...”

You understand what she wants, but you're rather feeling sadistic tonight. “Can I what?” You grind hard against her, and she gasps. “Tell me, Roxy. Tell me what you want.”

She presses a hand to your abdomen, stilling your motions. She gazes up at you from underneath her eyelashes, and damn if that isn't the cutest thing you ever saw. Eyes half-lidded and glazed, swollen lips pink and glossy, cheeks flushed. She's gorgeous, and she's yours all _yours_.

Her words completely contradict her innocent facade. “I want you to fuck me.”

You would sputter and stammer had you not been expecting it.

You recall the time when Roxy finished that particular bit of your anatomy and requested for Dirk to help her out in attaching it. He did so reluctantly and was shocked by how much detail she had put into it. And then there was the size.

You teasingly called Roxy a masochist, and Dirk just shook his head at the two of you and walked out of the room mumbling something about unrealistic expectations.

You gather her in your arms and kiss her gently. Her hand slides down to wrap around you even the stimulation does nothing for you.

You move to the edge of the bed, settling in front of a mirror. You turn Roxy around and lower her down, hands gently pressing on her hips. Your hands slip from her hips, and you loop your arms under the crook of her knees, her long thigh high-clad legs draping over your arms, and ease her down onto your cock. Resting your head on her shoulder, you watch as it disappears inside of her. Your eyes flicker to her face in the mirror's reflection, and her visage shows a degree of discomfort, but the other eighty-seven percent is pure gratification.

You draw your legs up, kiss her neck, and slide out of her to the tip. Her breathing is shaky, but she gives you the go ahead. You buck up into her, and she groans deeply, head tipping back. You pull back out and push in again, a little harder. The third time around, you slam into her, and she cries out in ecstasy. You set the pace: equal amounts of hard and quick and deep.

Her mewls and moans are delicious, a symphony that washes over you and excites you. You thrust harder, slamming your hips upward, drawing back, upward, back, upward, back. God _damn_ you really want those sensory receptors.

You're fascinated by how you disappear inside of her, reappearing for only brief instances. You're joined together with another person. Her head is still lolling on your shoulder, and you take the opportunity to bite her on the front of her throat, determined to mark her as yours. You tug the top of her dress down, freeing her breasts. Your hands find them, fingers rolling her hardened nipples, eliciting sharper gasps and louder moans.

She begins tensing soon enough and starts babbling disjointed sentences. She's close and oh god you're the one who's getting her there, the one making it happen. You intensify your efforts, fucking her harder until she's near tears.

Roxy sings when she climaxes, shuddering around you and collapsing forward. You catch her before she topples to the floor and gently ease out of her. She winces due to sensitivity. You lay down next to her, listening to her harsh breathing, feeling her glow. You know that the smell of sex must be in the air, and that thought only serves to make you curious. You wonder what Roxy smells like.

Roxy turns to her side and wraps a leg around one of yours. Her hand touches your face, palm cupping your cheek. You wonder how you must feel to her. Your skin isn't like a human's, and you're certainly not warm nor are you cold. You decide to ask her.

“What does my skin feel like?”

“What?” Roxy mumbles, still trying to catch her breath, still waiting for the high of her orgasm to ebb away.

“My skin,” you repeat. “What does it feel like?”

She thinks about it for a few moments, eyes fixed on your face. “Tepid,” she says.

You frown at her answer, and you wonder what you can do to fix yourself. It isn't human enough.

You're not human enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the fact that AR is not like Dirk came across.
> 
>  
> 
> [My tumblr.](http://lovelettes.tumblr.com)


End file.
